Dear Diary
by ICanStopAnytime
Summary: A 6th-grade Julie explores her angst in her diary as her family prepares to move.
1. Chapter 1

Thursday, March 14, 2002

Dear Diary,

Aunt Shelley is awesome. She's the only one in my family who understands how much it sucks to be moving! She gave me this diary and told me I could record my feelings in it. She said it helped her when she was little and they moved from Oklahoma to Texas. I didn't know my mom wasn't a native Texan! She never tells anyone. You'd think it was a major family secret.

This is the third time we've moved since I was born. Why can't my dad just stay put in one job? There's tons to do in Plano. We're close to Dallas.

We're going to some place called Dillon. Dad tried to show it to me on the map and it took him forever to find it. He kept saying, "You'll like it, Monkey Noodle. The junior high has a dance club. You can do your ballet."

Oooooh! A dance club! Such a total selling point, Dad. Dad still doesn't get that I don't do ballet. I do JAZZ! I did ballet when I was a kid. When I was like 8. I've been doing jazz for the last two years. What does he think ballet is? And why does he still call me Monkey Noodle? I'm going through puberty now. I started sex ed LAST year. I'm going to be in the 7th grade after we move!

Mom says I can ask her anything at all I want about puberty or sex. But her answers are just sooooo detailed. All this biology and lecturing and Julie you need to know this and Julie you need to know that. Thank God for Shelley! Shelley tells it to me straight up.

Dad ignores it all. Except when he gets totally weird and gives me one of his pop quizzes. He did that again today. I'm just sitting at the kitchen table doing homework and he walks in from work, says totally without looking at me, "Jules, if you have sex standing up, can you get pregnant?"

What? I couldn't think. Who just walks into the kitchen and asks that? So I say no. And he gets all red in the face and says, "They don't teach you anything at that school. Good thing we're moving to Dillon." And he hands me _another_ book about sex.

"Nice talk, Dad," I shot when he runs out of the kitchen.

Good thing we're moving to Dillon. NOT! Plano is one of the highest rated school districts in Texas. And we're moving to a place where the only thing that ever matters is football. Dad will love it! I can't believe Mom is going along. All her "education is so important" talk. She says Dillon has a good junior high. I can do pre-AP classes there. They don't have a gifted program like they do here. No more freaks like me all in one class, but, hey, I can do "pre-AP"! Thanks, Mom.

I guess it's a big deal to be a QB high school coach instead of just a junior high coach like Dad is here. I don't get it. He's in charge of the Tigers and he'll just be like an assistant for the Panthers. But somehow it's going to "build his career" Mom says. It can't be easy for her to leave either. Her sister is here. She said Dad turned down this offer last year because she was finishing up her counseling certification and clinical hours. She works at the Women's Clinic twenty hours a week but doesn't even get paid. That sucks. I'm going to be a dancer when I get out of high school. I'm not going to work and not get paid! So Dad turned the job down once and Mom says he can't turn it down again. Sure he can! You just say NO! He HAS a job here. It's not like he doesn't. I don't get it.

I mean, why now? Just when I've finally managed to make new friends? And just when Hunter is finally starting to notice me!

We got assigned to do our history project together. We have to do a living history musume (muesem?) presentation on Texas history. He gets to be James Long and I get to be the Mother of Texas, Jane, his WIFE. I get to play his wife!

Hunter….sigh. Such blue eyes! And his hair is that not really blonde kind of brown that's soooo cute!

Dad would totally try to recruit Hunter for the junior high football team if he was still coaching here next year. But Hunter's totally not a jock. I mean, he plays soccer and he's on a select team and he's like the main scorer, but he's not a jock. He read a poem he wrote for our poetry unit and it was soooo moving!


	2. Chapter 2

Friday, March 15, 2002

Dear Diary,

Hunter said "Hi!" to me during recess on his way to play soccer with the guys. I just waved like I wasn't totally excited and kept sitting on top of the monkey bars.

No recess next year in 7th grade, which is just as well, because I'm way too old for the playground. My friend Tanya tried to get me to do jump rope stuff but I didn't think that would look too cool, so I just hung out and watched Hunter play. He's so cute!

Half the guys play football during recess, and half play soccer. And then there's that one guy who just sits on the bench and reads. Cash. With a name like that you'd think he'd be cool instead of such a dork. Not that reading is dorky. I love to read. Just not in front of people on the playground. I finished Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire in three days and I can't wait until the next one comes out. But Cash also has those huge glasses. He might be an okay looking guy without them I guess. Sometimes I do read under my desk. I don't get caught. I thought it was because I was good at hiding it, but Dad says it's because the teacher doesn't want to catch me.

Dad teaches as well as coaches, so he thinks he knows why teachers do what they do. He got his first teaching job a year before I was born. When he started, you didn't have to have a degree in the subject you were teaching most places, and they needed an English teacher at a school in Midland, so that's how he started out. He's since taught P.E., Shop, and Health, but now he's back to English. I think that's weird, because he hardly ever reads. Well, okay, he reads a LOT. It's just he doesn't read REAL books. He mostly reads nonfiction. And he doesn't seem like he would know anything when it comes to English, but then out of the blue sometimes he'll correct someone's grammar. He's a real stickler for "between you and I." It should be "between you and me." I've got it now, Dad. Thanks.

The book Dad just assigned his classes has a character who is a football star named Erik. Seriously, Dad? The actual hero isn't Erik, though, it's his brother, a total geek called Paul Fisher who ends up getting adopted by the soccer team. He's kind of a cross between Hunter and Cash in a weird way. In the book there's this sinkhole that keeps opening up and…well, it's a kind of cool story. _Tangerine_ it's called. Dad smiled when he saw me reading it and told me I could teach his class for him if I want. I think sometimes he just reads the Cliff Notes for the books he assigns. I guess he's not a bad teacher though because he's up for Teacher of the Year again. Third year in a row. Mom always says, "Your dad's a teacher first." He's never actually WON the award though.

So as I'm leaving the playground, Cash actually talks to me. I didn't think he ever talked to anyone except when the guys were shoving him in the trash can, and then he'd say, "Stop." For a dork he has pretty cool eyes. I never really noticed before. They're kind of brown and gold with a ring of blue. Not like Hunter's perfect blue, blue eyes though. Anyway , Cash asks who I got for the history project, and I tell him Jane Long – wife of James Long – a.k.a. ADORABLE HUNTER. Well, I didn't tell him the last part. And he said he got Stephen Austin and then just kept looking at me. It was kind of creepy and weird, so I kept walking.

Gotta go. Tanya and I are going to see Murder by Numbers. Dad is just dropping us off outside the theatre and picking us up, so we're going to buy tickets for a PG movie and then sneak in.


	3. Chapter 3

Saturday, March 16, 2002

Dear Diary,

Murder by Numbers ran a little later than we thought, and Dad came inside looking for us after the PG movie was supposed to have let out. But we played cool. I thought he totally didn't know we snuck into the other movie, but then I heard him and Mom talking about it in the living room after I went to bed.

"Like you never did that, Eric," Mom said.

"Those movies aren't like today's movies! There's…nudity and stuff." He said nudity like it was a real dirty word.

"Yeah, how old were you when you snuck into Porky's?"

"I was 16. I was not 12!"

"Well, Murder by Numbers is no Porky's anyway."

"I don't know what it is," Dad grumbled.

"It's about two gifted high school kids who murder people."

Dad laughed that laugh he has. The one when he's kind of mad and sarcastic. "Well that's just fantastic. Just the role modeling our gifted girl needs."

"Julie isn't going to be MURDERING anyone, Eric."

"Well what we should do about this?"

"Pretend we don't know. We'll have bigger fish to fry one day. I don't want to bother with this battle. You're leaving Sunday night. I don't want y'all to have a tiff before you leave for a whole entire week."

He's going to Dillon for our Spring Break. Dillon's schools aren't on Spring Break next week, but they've got spring training that week, so Dad's going to help, even though he's not getting paid. His job there doesn't start until June 1. Mom says he wants to get to know the team.

I didn't listen after that. I figured Mom would win the argument. She usually does.

I've decided Mom is not as uncool as I thought she was. She's not as cool as Aunt Shelley, but she's pretty cool.

I've got time to write this morning without anyone bothering me, because on Saturdays Mom and Dad always sleep in. I don't know why they sleep so late every Saturday, but they never come out of their bedroom until after 11. Then Dad makes "breakfast" (hello, I fixed myself breakfast at 9!) and he whistles the WHOLE time he's cooking.

Then of course it's football on the TV all afternoon long. And then Dad will ask me if I want to go outside and toss the football, which of course I do NOT. And then he'll suggest going to the park like I'm still 8. And then he'll get all mad that I don't want to do anything with him.

Well, if he really CARED about me he wouldn't be taking this stupid job in Dillon! Mom didn't want him to take it last year, and so he didn't. But now she's all supportive because he waited for her to finish her counseling certification. She says she understands why I'm upset, but apparently I don't get a vote. Not one that counts anyway. She says I have to understand what an important opportunity this is for my dad, and how if he passes on the offer again, he could be stuck in junior high forever, and blah, blah, blah. Well, we've only lived here three years! And I've finally made real friends!

And Hunter *could* be my first boyfriend one day soon...


	4. Chapter 4

**Sunday, March 17, 2002**

**1:08 PM**

I sat behind Hunter at church today. He's so cute when he's wearing a suit and tie. Why do guys looks so much hotter all dressed up? I guess even Dad does because you can see all those church ladies that are his age hovering around him by the coffee. When that happens, Mom puts that possessive arm grip around his waist. She smiles and laughs at those church ladies, but it's like she's laughing, "He's mine. Step back."

Dad says he's going to look at houses when he goes to Dillon. Mom said fine, but he better not put an offer on anything until she sees it because if he does, he'll be on the couch.

At least houses are cheaper there. Mom says we should be able to get a real house with at least three bedrooms and a yard instead of a tiny town house like this. But then there won't be tons of people living nearby for me to make friends with. My best friend Tanya is just three doors down!

Speaking of Tanya, I have to tell her my uncle's family is coming to visit for Easter weekend. We get off Good Friday and Easter Monday, kind of a bonus the week after spring break.

They're staying in a hotel of course. No room to sleep here. Tanya thinks my cousin Rob, Jr. is hot. He's almost fifteen though so she doesn't stand a chance. I'm just excited to see my cousin Charlotte. She's my age. But my cousin Austin is only six. Want to bet he was a total surprise? I think it would be weird, to be like Rob, Jr and have a sibling that was almost NINE years younger than me! Sometimes I used to wish Mom and Dad would have another kid, so I could have a sister. But I guess I was kind of a tough toddler and they just decided one kid was enough.

Dad is watching football. I so don't want to hang out with him, but I might just sit on the couch next to him and read for a little while.

**5:25 PM**

When I went down it was half time and dad was reading. He doesn't really like the half time stuff. The book was called The Art of War and I said, "You planning to join the Army?"

Dad looked up and looked surprised to see I'd sat next to him. "It's about football." He closed the book and tossed it on the coffee table. Mom walked behind him, kissed the top of his head, and said, "I thought it was about marriage."

I read the back cover blurb and it is so not about football OR marriage.

Then the game started up and Dad actually TURNED IT OFF. I thought the sun must have burned out.

He looked at me and said, "What do you want to do, Monkey Noodle? Let's do something together. I've got to leave for Dillon tomorrow."

I didn't really want to do anything with him. But he kept bugging me so finally I said I guess maybe I wanted to play Scrabble.

He tried to make up some words like he always does, but I challenged him.

I put down "move" (got the V on a triple letter score too) and said, "Like you're making us do."

"Julie," he said. I could tell he was about to go into lecture mode. "Listen. I know this isn't easy for you. It's not easy for me either. I'm moving away from a school where I've coached and taught for four years. I'm moving away from friends too."

"You grew up in Dillon, though."

"Nah. I grew up in North Dillon. I don't really know anyone Dillon, except some of the coaches. And I've kind of moved on out of that small town life. It's not going to be an easy adjustment for me either, to be honest. The way people are always in your business, always gossiping. I got used to being away from all that, and so did your mother. But Dillon High is a big high school. It's the only high school in the entire town, and the team has a good reputation. The QB coaching position there might set me up for the _head_ coaching position in a couple years. And after a few years of that…maybe I can coach college ball on some level. Maybe by the time you're in college. And then I'll be able to afford to send you to any school you want to go to."

"What if I don't WANT to go to college?"

"Of course you'll want to go to college," he said.

"Maybe I'll just go to dance school."

That should have worked him up, but instead he just said, "Then I'll have the money to pay for a really good dance school." He started putting away the game, which I'd won. "You don't get to dictate where we live," he said. "But don't think that means I don't know it isn't easy for you."

He stood up and went back to the last few minutes of his football game.

**10:05 PM**

Mom and Dad and I all went out for ice cream after dinner. Mom insisted. Family time before Dad goes away for a week. Mom's acting like he's leaving for war or something. It's only five days.

They were all lovey dovey tonight and even kissed in front of me. I wish they'd cut that out. They're too old for that. I guess it's better than when they fight, like they did last year. That was the first time Dad wanted to move to Dillon, and we ended up not going. I guess he won this year, but Mom seems happy about it. She's got her counseling certification now, and she thinks she has a better chance of getting a job in a small town than here, where everything is more competitive. Except football. I've heard that people are less crazy about football here than in Dillon. But I can't imagine people being any CRAZIER.

As we were leaving the ice cream parlor, Cash and his family came in. So I had to talk to the weird guy for a little bit. And on the drive home Mom says, "I think that boy has a crush on you." I can see Dad raising his eyebrow in the rearview mirror.

"Ewwww!" I say.

"What?" Mom asks. "Didn't he get the Best Student Award last year? Seems like a good kid. Kind of cute too."

Cute? Maybe a tiny bit without the huge glasses, but certainly not HOT like Hunter. "He's _weird_, Mom. He reads at recess."

"_You_ like to read."

"No one needs to be having a crush on anyone," Dad announced. Then he took an arm off the steering wheel and put it on Mom's knee. "Except you. On me. Of course."

I said EWWWW again.

"Well I don't understand why you're so repulsed by him," Mom said. "He seems like a nice kid."

"Nice guys always finish last," Dad insisted.

"You sure did, huh?" Mom asked, faking like she was offended.

"Well, you didn't like me when I was nerdy like that kid."

"I didn't KNOW you when you were nerdy like that kid."

"You were NERDY, Dad?" I asked from the backseat. Dad's a goofball sometimes. Stupid sense of humor. But he's a coach. He's so into football. And the church ladies seem to think he's good-looking. So does Mom. So I just assumed he was a super popular jock in high school.

"Let's just say I was not admired by the girls in junior high."

"But you played football," I said.

"Sure, but I wasn't very good at it until my junior year of high school. I read all about it, studied the plays from the bench mostly, made up some of my own, drew a lot of diagrams… listened carefully to the coaches…took notes…got made fun of for taking notes…I was short and fat in 8th grade. Then I shot up and I was tall and skinny in 9th grade. I didn't start to _look_ like a quarterback until almost my sophomore year, which is also when I _happened_ to get my first date." He squeezed Mom's knee. "Girls are so shallow."

She laughed, took his hand from her knee, and put it back on the wheel.

"Your Mom and I met when I was 19. If your mom had known me when I was a freshman in high school," Dad said, "she wouldn't have given me the time of day."

"Oh that's ridiculous, Eric. Of course I would have. Well…." She looked out the window. "Maybe not. I had bad taste in boys back then." She turned around. "But my Jules is smarter. Right, Julie babe?"

"Hunter's not a jock," I said. "Even though he's on the select scoccer team. He writes good poetry. At least he did for that assignment we had."

Dad groaned. "That kid doesn't even play a _real_ sport." He shook his head. "Soccer," he muttered. "Couldn't even have chosen baseball at least."

Mom poked him in the ribs, and at that point. I decided it was better to think about Hunter *silently*.

Well, diary, it's getting late, and Mom just knocked on the door to ask why my light is still on. It's not like we have school tomorrow! It's spring break! Our spring break, anyway. Dillon' spring training. Dad's leaving at 3:30 AM tomorrow to drive there. Not that I'll miss him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Wednesday, March 20, 2002**

**10 PM**

Dear Diary,

Hunter and I are going to get together tomorrow to work on our project! Hunter, at my house!

Due date: Thursday, March 28. Right before Easter weekend. Gee, thanks for making us work over spring break Mrs. McKinney! Actually…Thanks! Because Hunter will be coming over while Dad is in Dillon. Thank God! Otherwise Dad would be hovering around the living room the entire time we're flirting. Because we WILL be flirting.

When Dad called tonight, he said I talk about Hunter too much. He says Hunter is a prentious (sp?) name. Like he should talk. I said, "And Eric's an awesome name? What kind of name is Eric anyway?"

Mom overheard me and said that Eric is Nordic.

So I say, "I thought the Taylors were English."

And Dad says, "The Taylors are Texan."

Yeah, SMALL TOWN Texan in June.

Goodbye Dallas suburbs!

Goodbye best friend Tanya!

Good bye awesome Aunt Shelley!

Goodbye musums (meusums?) and art and dance and all that is not football! Goodbye….

HUNTER!

Sigh.

**Thursday, March 21, 2002**

**10:15 PM**

Dear Diary,

Hunter is a total jerk.

The whole time we were supposed to be working on our project all he did was talk about Ashley! Ashley this and Ashley that. He says he's "going" with her and I'm like, "Going where?" He didn't think it was funny.

And then when he leaves, Mom's all annoying and says, "I think you need to see beyond that boy" or something like that. Thanks for rubbing it in, Mom.

Hunter didn't even do any of the research. He just expected me to do it all. And I'm like, "I thought you were smart. That was a really awesome poem you wrote for our poetry unit."

And you know what he says?

He paid CASH to write it for him. $5 and "free protection" for a week.

"Protection from what?" I ask.

"From being shoved in the trash can again," he says.

Jerk! Total jock. I'm NEVER crushing on anyone who's into sports again. Definitely not a soccer player, but I bet FOOTBALL PLAYERS are even WORSE.

I guess I'm kind of ugly compared to Ashely. Of course he'd go with Ashley!

I need to go on another diet. I slacked off on mine. I think I'm getting too fat.

I called Aunt Shelley and she totally agreed with me that Hunter is a jerk and also said that Ashely is probably just a stupid bimbo. I asked her what a bimbo is and she said, "Just look in the dictionary, and you'll see a picture of Ashley."

Then Aunt Shelley told me there's a rumor that Green Day is going on tour later this spring and they may come to Dallas and if so she's going to take me to the concert!

When Dad called from Dillon I told him about the Green Day concert and he's like, "What kind of music is that?" Then he says he's going to listen to them.

He's been trying to "relate" to me lately. He thinks I won't be so mad about moving. Eye roll.

God I hope he doesn't actually listen to them. He probably won't let me go to the concert. He still listens to music from the 70's. Probably the exact same stuff he listened to when he was my age. And Mom only listens to country. Their musical tastes are so awful.

Well, guess I have to go finish this project Hunter barely helped me with.

**Friday, March 22, 2002**

**11:00 AM**

Dear Diary,

Seriously, why doesn't Hunter like me?

Not that I care because he's a jerk.

But he's so cute. And I really thought he liked me!

I must be a bigger, uglier loser than I thought I was.

**Friday, March 22, 2002**

**11:50 PM **(Is the time important? It seems to be part of the format.)

Dear Julie,

I just got home from Dillon and found this journal on the kitchen table. I didn't know what it was at first, and it wasn't locked, so I opened it. Some notes:

1. You're right. Football players are the worst offenders. Just ask your mother.

2. You should actually spend some real time listening to 70's music. You might find you like it. Start with Fleetwood Mac. I don't really like country either, but don't tell your mother. You know, even your Aunt Shelley loves country. If she told you differently, she's just trying to play the cool aunt.

3. Why are you staying up past 10 PM so many nights?

4. If you wake up in the morning, and you find some strange man on the couch, it's okay, I invited him. He'll be staying for a couple of nights.

5. The Art of War is about football. And it is about marriage. It's about everything. You should read it. Maybe when you're 15.

6. I'm sorry moving has got you so upset. If I could satisfy everyone at once, I would. Your happiness is important to me, but I'm responsible for thinking about the future of this entire family. And I know you're growing up, faster than I'd like, but I think maybe you're still a little too young to understand that.

7. Most importantly -

You are a precious girl. You don't need to go on a diet. You're twelve, and you're beautiful just the way you are. You're smart and capable and a great dancer, and you have the most amazing smile. Any guy in the world would be lucky to "go" with you. But you don't need to "go" with anyone anywhere right now.

Don't worry about who likes you and who doesn't like you. Forget Hunter. Forget all of them. Just worry about who you want to become.

You've got your whole life ahead of you, Monkey Noodle.

Love,

Dad


	6. Chapter 6

**Saturday, March 23, 2002**

**9 AM**

Dear Diary,

I HATE HATE HATE my dad!

How DARE he read my diary!

From now on, you will be locked up every night and put in the bottom of my underwear drawer and I will carry the key with me always.

I may stay up after 10, but I'm still the first one up this morning. That strange man is snoring on our couch.

I don't know when the rest of the house is waking up, but you can bet Dad is getting the silent treatment ALL DAY LONG.

**5 PM**

I eventually decided to talk to Dad, but only to tell him what a jerk he'd been. I waited until after I'd given him a few hours of the silent treatment. And then I had to get him alone, which was hard to do with that man here.

I told Dad it was a TOTAL invasion of my privacy to do what he did, and I will NEVER trust him again.

He made a bunch of excuses. He said he was checking to see what the book even was so he'd know where to put it away, and then after he read a page or two he started to get worried about me, so he just went and read the whole thing, because he loves me and I don't talk to him enough and he wants to make sure I'm doing okay. Yeah, right. He totally invaded my privacy because he CARES about me. Sure, Dad. Then he said something about not leading people into temptation, which I guess meant don't leave it unlocked on the kitchen table.

I just forgot! I was getting a glass of milk and a cookie and wrote a little, and then I was tired. I just forgot, okay?

Doesn't give him the right to READ it.

I told him there was NO EXCUSE for what he did. Then he said, "I apologize. You're right. I shouldn't have done it." He always apologizes in three parts. Like that's going to make it better. Then he promised he'd never touch my diary again. I don't believe that for a minute. I've got a good place to hide it now.

**10 PM**

So at dinner Dad just kept talking about this kid Jason Street who is going to be on JV next year. He's not even on the Panthers yet, but Dad says he's going to get to coach him, turn him into a star, blah, blah, blah. I thought he was supposed to be spending all of spring break at the high school but he spent half of it at the junior high with that Street guy.

And that Mr. Garrity man had dinner with us. He's going to stay here again tonight. Dad's going to take him to tour the Texas Stadium tomorrow after church. I guess there's nothing going on there right now. I've been to Texas Stadium at least five times to see Cowboy's games. It's kind of boring. I used to like to go just for the cotton candy and the popcorn but I'm on a diet now. There's one kind of fun thing about the Cowboy games though. I get to see Dad get so excited. It makes me laugh. He's not the kind of guy to get excited about much except football. And snowball fights. He's pretty into snowball fights, but we only get snow about twice a year.

God, Mr. Garrity is so annoying. He just talked on and on about the Panthers and when HE was on the Panthers. The only other thing he talked about is how pretty Mom is. He kept saying things to Dad like "You have a gorgeous wife" or "You're a lucky or man," or "That's quite a southern belle you've got."

Mom was all charming as usual of course because I guess Mr. Garrity controls the football money or something but I can tell she didn't like him.

And Dad was all proud at first but after about the fourth time Mr. Garrity said something about Mom being good-looking, Dad started talking with his eyes.

Dad doesn't say much a lot of the time, but sometimes he talks with his eyes. I don't know if people can hear him talking with his eyes, but I can. And Mom can. Sometimes he and Mom talk to each other with their eyes. I don't always know what they're saying to each other, but I think I know what Dad was saying to Mr. Garrity - "Cut it out. That's totally my wife. I know she's beautiful, but that's enough." I guess Mr. Garrity finally heard Dad's eyes because he stopped saying that stuff.

Dad brought me home a stuffed Panther from Dillon. Like I care. Like I'm not too old for stuffed animals by now. Geesh.

Well, I do still have Maurice.

That's the big monkey Dad won at the Texas State Fair for me when I was seven. He did it throwing a football through some holes. The carnie guy didn't expect him to win and was kind of impressed and asked if he ever played professional football. Dad looked at Mom then and talked with his eyes again, but I don't know what he was saying, except that he was kind of sad. And Mom kissed his cheek and I got Maurice.

That's when Dad started calling me Monkey Noodle. And Mom let us eat two deep fired Oreos that day without nagging Dad about his cholesterol. But when he got in line for the deep fried butter, she said, "No, sugar. No way." (Dad hates it when Mom calls him sugar, but if he's going to call me Monkey Noodle, he ought to know what it's like.) So we went and got turkey legs instead.

Dad used to be way cooler. I don't know when he got so uncool.

Mom says he got uncool when I turned eleven, and that he'll keep getting even less and less cool until I'm at least twenty, and then someday I'll realize how totally cool he is.

I don't know what she's talking about. Mom says odd stuff like that a lot.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sunday March 24, 2002**

**9:30 PM**

That man Mr. Garrity had dinner with us again tonight but thank God he left after and didn't spend the night again.

When he left, Mom just looked at Dad and said something with her eyes and he said, "What?" with his mouth.

Mom put a hand on each hip and said, "How many meals am I going to have to cook for that man over the next few years?"

Dad said, "I love you, babe. You're the best help meet a man could have."

"What's a help meet?" I asked.

"Clearly you didn't listen to the sermon this morning," Mom said. "I'm surprised your father did."

"Do I get any points for that?" Dad asked.

"No." Then Mom opened the wine and told me to start making a "giveaway bag" so we'd have less to move when school lets out.

No one cares whether or not I want to move.

**Thursday March 28, 2002**

We gave our history presentations today. Stupid Hunter forgot half his lines. I HATE group projects! They're so unfair. Just let me do all the work myself.

Cash got to work by himself. He didn't forget his lines. Well, I guess it was more like no one wanted to work with him. We have an even number in the class, but one group had three people in it instead of two and that left Cash without a partner.

Cash must have gotten contacts because he didn't have his glasses on today. He looks better without the huge glasses but he must have gotten colored contacts because his eyes were blue. I told him at recess, "You know, your REAL eye color is way cooler. You should just get regular contacts."

And he just looked up from his book and smiled and stared at me and I was a little weirded out.

So I went to find Tanya to jump rope. She's on the jump rope team. I didn't make the cut. I wasn't cheerleadery enough I guess. Because I can totally jump. Well, I did mess up the routine a little at try outs. And I can't exactly jump the rope on those bouncy ball things. But I bet if I were more cheerleaderly, I'd have made the team.

**Friday March 29, 2002**

**11:40 PM**

We all went out to dinner this evening and then went to Good Friday service at the Cathedral Shrine of the Virgin Guadalupe in Dallas because Aunt Maria is Catholic and she wanted to see that church. I was weirded out. It was way more formal than our church. I think Mom felt the same way because on the way home she was like, "That was…somber." And then she asked, "Is Robert still an atheist?"

Mom calls Uncle Rob Robert, and Dad calls him Bobby, and I call him…well, Uncle Rob. Because that's his name.

"Yeah," Dad said, "but he does what Maria tells him to. He's whipped." At least I think he said whipped.

Mom glared at him and said Uncle Rob was just respectful of his wife's wishes.

"I'm respectful of my wife's wishes," Dad said, and then he said something about how he could have taken this QB coaching job LAST year, and if so he'd be one year closer to being head coach, but he didn't out of respect for Mom wanting to finish up her certification.

Then Mom shot back that she could have NOT smiled the entire time Buddy Garrity was staying at our house. "But instead," she said, "_I_ respected _your_ wishes and charmed the pants off of him."

"I don't want you to charm the pants off of Buddy Garrity," Dad said. "You don't need to charm the pants off of anyone. Except me."

Of course I'm saying ewwwwww in the back seat.

"You just need to feed him," Dad said.

Uncle Rob's family followed us to our house and when we got there it was wine and beer and laughing and loudness and so NOT somber.

Tanya showed up of course, because she knew Rob, Jr. would be here, but she says he's not as cute anymore. He's wearing all black now and it wasn't for the Good Friday service. My cousin Charlotte says he wears black every day now. He's even got black eyeliner on.

He went around talking about some guy named Foo-co (or something like that) and some guy named Can't (or something like that) and quoting them and talking about philosophy and death. He was suddenly kind of boring.

I overheard Dad saying to Uncle Rob, "What's with your son?"

Uncle Rob said, "Junior has gone Goth." He said my Aunt Maria flipped out, but he'd told her that Rob, Jr. would probably fall for some girl who didn't like it, and my cousin would go back to normal again. "Just like when you pierced your ear your sophomore year."

My mouth just fell open. Dad? Piercing his ear? NO WAY.

Uncle Rob said their dad flipped out, but their mom told their dad to chill and it would go away. "Sure enough, Cindy told you that you looked gay, and that was the end of that earring."

Dad said, "I did not look gay. I looked like a buccaneer" and Uncle Rob laughed and Dad laughed and they opened more beer.

So Tanya and I avoided Rob, Jr. and just hung out with Charlotte in the lawn chairs on the front sidewalk. We were supposed to be keeping an eye on Austin, which just meant hollering after him when he rode my old bike too far down the sidewalk. I guess he doesn't care that it's pink.

Mom and Aunt Maria were in the back yard – which is really small – drinking wine and laughing. I don't know where Rob. Jr. went. But me and Charlotte watched my Dad and Uncle Rob make fools of themselves in the townhouse parking lot.

First they had a foot race. Uncle Rob won.

Then it was see who could throw the football farthest down the street. Dad won.

Then it was see who could hit the baseball farthest down the street. Uncle Rob, of course. He used to play for the minors. Dad hit somebody's car with the ball and scuffed it a little and had to go knock on doors to find out who it was so he can pay for the damage.

Tanya went home at ten and we all went inside, except for Mom and Aunt Maria who were still out back. Uncle Rob turned on the TV and sat in Dad's recliner and said, "I guess we should go back to the hotel soon."

Dad asked him if he was okay to drive and Uncle Rob said, "I'm not a lightweight like you."

Dad told Uncle Rob he could drink him over the table any day, or under it, or something like that.

Uncle Rob said he wanted Dad to prove it, but tomorrow, since Maria probably couldn't drive him home tonight and he'd have to drive.

Then Dad insisted Mom would kill him if he was hung over for Easter service, so if they were going to do it, they'd have to do it tonight. Then they started trying to work out sleeping arrangements, which came down to Uncle Rob and Aunt Maria squishing into my double bed and Austin sleeping on the floor in my room, me crashing in the living room with Charlotte, and Rob, jr. folding down the futon couch/bed in Dad's garage office. "I put an A/C until in the window in there," Dad said. "He can crank that up."

Dad glanced at me like he just realized I had to be overhearing all this. He and Mom don't get drunk often, and when they do it's usually just one of them, and they both pretend the drunk one isn't drunk. They think I don't notice.

"Jules," he said, "You'll love having a sleep over with your cousin, won't you?"

Normally any other year I would have, but Charlotte seems different now. I don't know. Like she's trying too hard to be cool. I just don't feel that instance close thing I used to feel. But it'll be okay, to have someone to talk to as I fall asleep.

When Dad and Uncle Rob went to the kitchen, Charlotte said, "They're going to get so shit faced."

I tried not to be surprised. She didn't use to swear like that. Swear words sound weird coming out of my mouth. I guess I should get used to swearing by high school though.

I'm not sure what shit-faced is. I get it must mean drunk, but I don't know what beer has to do with shit and faces.

Rob, Jr. said, "Mom's going to be pissed."

"Mom's already shit-faced, and so is Aunt Tami," Charlotte said.

"They're only buzzed," Rob, Jr. insisted. "That's completely different than shit-faced. But you wouldn't know, since you're just a little kid."

"Like you drink?" Charlotte shot back.

"Alcohol is for the shallow," he said.

I don't know who won the drinking contest, but Aunt Maria and Mom came in from the backyard, and there were some raised voices in the kitchen, and Uncle Rob and Dad BOTH ended up sleeping on the futon in the garage office. Austin is sleeping with Aunt Maria in my bed. Rob, Jr. fell asleep in the recliner in the living room and Charlotte fell asleep on the couch, which leaves me with the floor. I can't fall asleep though so I'm in the kitchen writing.

Mom gets an entire big bedroom all to herself. I don't know how she managed that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Saturday March 30, 2002**

**10:30 AM**

All the adults are still in bed. Rob, Jr. is on the back porch writing song lyrics in a journal and drinking extra thick coffee. Charlotte and Austin are on the couch watching cartoons. Charlotte says she might start journaling too. I told her it's an awesome way to work through my stuff.

**8 PM**

We all went to some local baseball game this afternoon after lunch. Or breakfast, depending on how you see it.

Dad only goes to baseball games with Uncle Rob. I guess Dad used to play baseball in high school plus football, but Uncle Rob says he was the worst guy on the team.

"I was not," Dad insisted. "I was only the third worst."

Then Uncle Rob said said he was the best guy on the baseball team and the third best on the wrestling team.

"Well I was the best guy on the football team," Dad said, "and as we all know, football is THE best sport."

Aunt Maria told the if they didn't stop their stupid competition, she was going to make them hold hands and look into each other's eyes and say they were sorry.

I guess Grandma used to make them do that.

**Sunday, March 31, 2002**

Aunt Shelley came for Easter brunch today. She lives in Plano too, about ten minutes from us. I sure am going to miss her when we move! The house was so crowded. Mom set up the card table in the living room and jammed in extra chairs at the kitchen table.

Shelley flirted with Uncle Rob a little bit. Aunt Maria seemed irritated, but I don't blame Aunt Shelley. It sure does get boring around here, and Uncle Rob's not bad looking for a thirty-something guy. I wonder why she never flirts with Dad though, because he's probably better looking than Uncle Rob. Maybe it's a sister code thing. Or maybe it's because Dad is no fun. Now that I think about it, Aunt Shelley does tease Dad a lot, but he doesn't tease back like Uncle Rob. He just grunts and goes and hides in his office most of the time or says, "Can you please just stop?"

Aunt Shelley told Rob, Jr. he was a good-looking kid and that the Goth things wasn't working for him. She said girls like smart, deep guys, but not if they go around TALKING about it. Rob, Jr. walked out of the kitchen when she said that, and Uncle Rob gave Shelley two thumbs up. "Don't worry," Aunt Shelley told him, "I'll convince him" and went to follow Rob, Jr. to the living room.

When she left, I could tell Aunt Maria was totally irritates. She asked Uncle Rob to stop flirting with Aunt Shelley and said something like, "Eric doesn't flirt with her. She how respectful _he_ is to _his_ wife?"

Mom snorted and poured herself a glass of wine and said Dad just doesn't like Shelley.

"Because he has good taste in women," Aunt Maria said.

"I have good taste in women," Uncle Rob insisted, "Look who I married!"

Uncle Rob stopped flirting with Aunt Shelley after that though.

**Monday, April 1, 2002**

Rob, Jr. was wearing jeans and a t-shirt when they came over from their hotel this morning. We all went out to breakfast at one of the like hundred local donut shops they have around here. When we first moved here, Mom said she'd never seen so many donuts in her life.

While we're eating, Uncle Rob tells Dad that their parents are getting a divorce. Grandma and Grandpa Taylor calling it quits! Dad thought it was an April Fool's joke at first, but apparently not. Dad called Grandpa and Grandpa was kind of closed lipped about it. He's kind of closed lipped about everything, Mom says.

Apparently Grandma just decided she'd had enough of something or another. I don't think he cheated or anything like that, but he's not the warmest guy on earth for total sure.

Uncle Rob and his family left this afternoon and Dad's been in kind of a daze ever since.


End file.
